The Departure (and the mess behind it)

We are off the dock.  It was a wonderful sendoff, being surrounded by so many local friends and family. It was important to share it and mark it – to recognize the major life change, the risk, and the love that travels with us.

But it was not a magical night. The kids were wired but tired. We were also tired, overcome with emotion and adrenaline, and frustrated with the bags of things we hadn’t had time to put away. The rain continued to come down, and low tide made a trip to our Cyprus shore slippery and difficult. In our efforts to pack our house’s pantry into the boat, we did not have time to provision for our first night, and we settled for mac and cheese and plain pasta to sate our tired, hungry souls – a far cry from the sunny celebratory beach bbq that we had wanted. I just wanted the day to be over. I know it won’t be the last day like that.

The release from the stress of the last six months did not happen immediately, nor will it.  And the last month has been the busiest I have ever experienced in my life, having to schedule daily plans down to the minute and starting work every morning at 6:00 to get it all done. Here’s a few photos to convey a small glimpse of these last four weeks.

Getting out of the house was a major undertaking. I regret not purging stuff after our last move (not that there was time), because it made it that much harder this time. And getting the last 5% of stuff out of the house and garage was pure torture. The garage got cleared mere hours before our renters arrived – and how happy I was to hand over keys!  However, I think it has changed my relationship with Stuff forever (see my first post for some musings at the beginning of this process)! I vow to be much more deliberate about my acquisition of things that will just end up at the bottom of boxes for years on end. I refuse ever again to own so much Stuff.

Dismantling the House
Emptying the (once very full) Garage

 

 

 

 

And then there was the boat. Tom and my dad worked 8 to 12 hour days getting the boat ready, replacing all batteries, rewiring the whole boat, replacing lights, installing and testing new systems (including AIS, SSB radio, chart plotter, and a new VHF radio), installing a new anchor windlass and chain, and installing our mechanical self-steering Hydrovane. Tom worked on the boat 99% of his time, and I worked on the house 99% of my time; weeks went by where we didn’t have a normal conversation.

Removing the old (not-functioning) anchor windlass
Finally! Installing the Hydrovane was a tough project.
Connections to the new battery bank

The boat was so torn apart for months that we didn’t have a chance to start purging the boat and then moving onto it until the last four days before departure.  Taking the first load down to the boat felt good, but also overwhelming. How do you pack for a 4-year trip in 4 days? By bringing way too much to start with, it turns out. There simply wasn’t time to figure out what would fit and what wouldn’t.  We’re on Day 2, and I’ve already started taking things back off the boat.

Taking the first load to the boat!
A continent’s worth of charts
Packing up!
The awesome shelves my dad built for the boat! A huge improvement to galley storage.

On the day of our departure, this guy met us at 7:00 a.m. at our dock, and I felt that it was a good omen. Not a good smell, but a good omen. And spending a few hours with friends and family – even in the pouring rain – before casting off was a touching and unforgettable event.

   

The leaving was and is hard and messy. But we did it. With lots of help from my parents.  And I suppose that’s the first hurdle. And there will be more hurdles and messes to deal with, but part of the adventure is know there will be those challenges and figuring out how to face them and deal with them rather than ignoring them. May we wake up each morning with a problem-solving attitude, inspired by the fact that we’ve already scaled the most difficult mountain: just getting off the dock.

Waking up in a cozy bed on Morning One!

17 thoughts on “The Departure (and the mess behind it)”

  1. Wow what adventure it already is! Can’t wait to see y’all wherever we meet up 😊. It almost feels like I just talked to Tom the other day that y’all are casting off?! Time flies. I look forward to some beautiful sunrise and sunset photos to come.

  2. Congratulations on completing Phase One and kicking off Phase Two! It was such a delight farewelling you from the dock yesterday, sending you off with all our love and best wishes and our absolute confidence in your and Tom’s abilities and judgement.

    Or as Dr Seuss put it:
    Congratulations!
    Today is your day.
    You’re off to Great Places!
    You’re off and away!

    You have brains in your head.
    You have feet in your shoes
    You can steer yourself
    Any direction you choose.
    You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
    And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

    1. Charlotte, these inspirational words come at the right time. I will come back and revisit them from time to time. During the hours and days when we get so immersed (entangled? drowned?) in the frustrations of everyday life, I think taking a step back to look at the bigger inspirational picture will be necessary. It was so nice to have you there with us at our sendoff!

  3. I have been listening to Bonnie describe the preparations. So happy that you are off on this adventure! Look forward to future posts!

    1. Thanks, Amy! It will be a few years, but we look forward to hitting the places you recommended in NZ!

  4. Hey, I am the guy with the little trimaran on the dock today. I didn’t mention that 20 years ago my sons were your kids age and we had them strapped into the exact same color/make/model life jackets whenever they were near the water. That was often because we lived on Lake Washington. What a flashback!
    Anyway, you guys looked great today and very best wishes.
    -Andy I
    SV Crazy Janey

    1. Thanks, Andy! We love these little PFDs, which came highly recommended. They’re also on the front cover of the awesome book “Voyaging with Kids,” which has some wonderful sage advice for those of doing this. Good on you for getting out there with your kids when they were little! Everybody who went before us has inspired us to do this. It was nice to meet you out at James Island. Enjoy that great little trimaran!

  5. Yay! How exciting! We were JUST talking about you on Sunday, as we had dinner at Nikki’s Bella Marina, overlooking all the boats. Happy voyage to you – I look forward to living vicariously through you! 🙂

    1. Thanks, Jen! You might not want to live all our experiences vicariously, but at least you’ll be able to read them and say “Hm, glad I’m not there.” 🙂 Right now, we’re just dealing with three-nager issues, which would really be the same whether on a boat or in a house.

  6. Hello–I am a friend of your mom’s from waaaaayyy back. We were classmates at both Sepuveda Jr High and Monroe HS. These days we are FB friends.

    What a treat it is to be vicariously sailing the oceans of the world with you and your family.

    Your writing style is engaging and raw-bone honest. Vibrant. Deliciously detailed.

    I am so looking forward to your posts and your photos over the next four years.

    I know that you (plural) know that self-care cannot be overstated. You are young and resilient. You can withstand the slings and arrows of everyday life. You have planned everything that can be planned with great care and caution. You’ve checked off all the essential items, plus you’ve created Plan B, C, D, etc. You also have a mindset that is prepared to adjust and modify in response to conditions of every caliber, color, and concentration (otherwise you would not be the accomplished sailors you already are).

    What I want to assure you is that in addition to those friends who braved the elements to wish you a grand farewell, you have fans like myself who send buoying succor and celebration that you are embracing this adventure with all your hearts and souls.

    1. Thank you, Vicki! Your reminder about self-care comes at a good time. Even though we know that self-care is important, I think (no, I KNOW) that we have been neglecting it in the past two weeks, and we recognize that we need to include that for all of us. Thank you for following! This is not an easy undertaking, but it is helpful to know that we have people supporting our adventure.

  7. hey there, i saw your blog on Kids4sail. My husband and i are in the ‘very basic maybe starting to plan to do that’ planning stage of living on a boat… but we are not boat people. i am a bike person and he is a mountain person. I really look forward to your trials and tribulations so i can prepare myself for the water life. I don’t look forward to boats or oceans, but i am a traveler and look forward to the cultural schooling that comes with the boat life. Thanks for keeping it real.

    1. Thanks for following, Risa. Yes, I’m more of a traveler than a sailor, at least originally, and that is a major motivation for me. It did help to live aboard for years in order to get a sense of what the day to day parts of living on a boat would be like (separate from the actual sailing). Good luck as you plan your own adventure! Have you read “Before They’re Gone” – a story of a father that spent a year taking his kids hiking in the National Parks.

  8. You will get very canny about what and how much to buy. You will donate a lot of stuff via marina laundries am
    ND libraries, and slowly stuff will become more manageable. The boys will gradually discard and swap out hat they don’t need.

    You will learn not to sweat the small stuff. The boys will learn that the safety stuff is non negotiable. At the moment it is all new routines, and as you say Fear… In a week or so you will start to be comfortable with the change… May the winds favor you…

    1. Thanks, Lizzie! Indeed, that is what is slowly happening – that everyone is getting used to new routines and to doing more with less. It’s a process.

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